Bars of Gold
by ncfan
Summary: I need a way out. /One-sided Kinzo x Beatrice, triggers, spoilers./


In the early episodes, hinted at but skirted around in Ep. 2 and explained explicitly in Ep. 3, Beatrice claims that when she first met Kinzo he entrapped her. For those of you who have both gotten all the way through Umineko and are looking at things from an anti-fantasy standpoint, this probably doesn't wash. Me, I like looking at things from both angles, so here comes this.

Triggers: imprisonment, implicit and explicit threat of rape.

I own nothing.

* * *

I am caged within bars of gold, and my manacles are fashioned of the finest silk. Since I am called the Golden Witch, Kinzo probably found that fitting, not that you'd ever get him to admit that what he has done to me can be defined with one very simple word, and that word is imprisonment. Getting him to admit that he's imprisoned me? Ha! That'll be the day.

Look at me. I am pathetic, a shadow of my former self, bound to this earth, and to this man. I should never have answered Kinzo's summons, when he called out for me through the mists of time and space and reality.

But what a surprise it was, what a surprise! For months and years I had been watching this man, young and impetuous, as he attempted to work magic and summon a Witch. He had no natural talent, no aptitude for magic. He was stumbling about, blind in the dark. I watched him and cackled, smoking my pipe and finding it deeply amusing that even though I was standing right next to him, he could not smell the aroma of my pipe-smoke. I watched as, slowly, painstakingly, he drew magic to his fingertips and magic to his words. He found the elusive element, and poured it into his work. Then, he called for me.

All I intended to do at first was have a good laugh at him again, now that I could be sure that he could hear my laughter and see the face I showed to him when I laughed. After a moment, though I had decided that I would grant Kinzo the gold he so desired, in honor of his persistence. I appeared to him, a golden butterfly shifting into the form of a Golden Witch.

Then, he saw my face. Then, I saw my face reflected in his eyes.

Kinzo claimed to love me. Those were the first words he said to me. My mocking laughter died on my lips, and was replaced by another laugh, that one flavored distinctly with unease. I've heard stories like this before, and they don't end well; usually, they end with at least one of the two parties quite thoroughly dead. I changed the subject to the matter of the contract Kinzo wanted to sign with me. We hashed out terms, and not once did those hungry gray eyes of his ever leave my face.

I won't lie. It was flattering. I like having my ego stroked, you see, and I have always been well-aware of my beauty. Am I not beautiful? Am I not golden-haired and blue-eyed, statuesque in form and fair of face? Never before had I minded when men found me beautiful and told me so, either with their voice or with their eyes. But in Kinzo, passionate, persistent Kinzo, who had labored for years to summon the magic necessary to call on me, despite having no natural talent or aptitude, it made me uneasy. Perhaps I should have left a Witch's dignity behind and fled from him when he said that he loved me.

On second thought, I really should have just turned right back around.

You see, I underestimated Kinzo. We concluded our contract, and he said again that he loved me, and implored me to stay with him. I refused, first with laughter, then with cold eyes that told him what I could not find the words to say—_I do not love you, and can not. You are a foolish human magician who looked at a Witch, saw beauty, and fancied himself in love. I know better. I do not love you. I have given you my gold. Now leave me alone. _I made to leave, but that towering temper of his and his already ungovernable desire to possess me lent him power, power that I had not realized that Kinzo could possess. He cast a barrier, and trapped me on his island.

What do I have? I have my beauty, which has led me to ruin, even if I still take pride in it. I look at my face in the mirror every morning and every evening, and I have come to hate this lovely face, and I have come to hate the mirror that shows it to me. Mirrors are no good for Witches; they ground them, remind them of what's real and what's not. When I look into the mirror, I am reminded that I am trapped. I am reminded that I am trapped here on Rokkenjima, on this island, in this room. Maybe that's why there are mirrors everywhere in this room, so Kinzo can be sure that I will not forget.

But then, I forget. I forget that to him, he has not imprisoned me at all.

What do I have? I have the golden bars of a golden cage, and glittering silk bound at my wrists and ankles, fine manacles indeed. I am kept in luxury, given everything I could ever want, except my power and my freedom. Kinzo has stowed me away as a man stows away his mistress—now, as at other times, I smirk to imagine the lady of the mansion up above shrieking at her husband and the servants, demanding to know where Kinzo keeps his whore.

His whore.

That's what he wants me to be. He couches it in prettier terms, begging me to love him, to be his beloved in flesh as well as in his mind, his paramour. But in truth if I give in to him I will be his concubine, his whore. And that's what Kinzo wants. He wants to possess me. I have seen it in his eyes. He wants to rip my dress from my shoulders, wants to look lasciviously over my bare flesh, and then use it as he will. That's what he wants. His lust is the master of him, just as he wishes to be master of me.

I should laugh in the face of his lust. I, Beatrice the Golden, Endless Witch, she who has lived a thousand years, should laugh in the face of the threat of eternal imprisonment and rape. She who is not human should not be afraid. She should never be afraid. But as Kinzo has imprisoned me here, so has he stripped me of all of a Witch's power. I have none of my former strength; I can not summon my furniture, nor even make a teacup dance. In physical prowess, I am equal to any woman who has lived a soft life, who has never needed to rely on the strength of her arms and legs.

Every evening, he comes to me, and asks me if I love him. Every evening, I tilt my head back arrogantly and say, as confidently as I can, that I do not, and I will not, and that I will never feel anything but hate for him so long as he denies me my freedom. I've got a reputation to maintain, after all, and I will never give Kinzo the satisfaction of knowing that he has broken me and driven me to say things I do not mean, but every night, his frustration grows greater. He does not say so to me, but I can see the flash of his gray eyes and see that his patience is wearing thin.

Evening fast approaches. Will this at last be the night when he can restrain himself no longer? Will this be the night that he forces himself upon me, forces his mouth and his hands upon my flesh, rips my gown from shoulders and force his will and his body upon me? The Golden Witch should not be afraid. She should laugh in the face of the threat of Ushiromiya Kinzo's ungovernable lust. She should laugh in the face of the threat of rape. But I do not laugh. And this thing I feel, deep in my breast, clanging about in my chest, it is fear. He could do it, if he really wanted to. He is bigger and stronger than me in flesh. If he wanted me, he could have me, even if I beat at his chest and his face the whole time, even if I screamed and scratched and clawed. He could have me no matter the circumstances.

I need a way out before that happens. I need a way out of this room filled with mirrors, the air choked with incense. I need a way out from behind these golden bars. I will never stop thinking until I find a way out, Kinzo. Do not underestimate me. I will find a way out before you can call yourself my master.


End file.
